The Christmas Hunter
Reading edition
With blare of horn and holloa, Who is it forth doth fare? It is the Christmas Hunter Who rides adown the air. Upon his wild steed, Sleipnir, He storms across the sky; And like the moan of ocean His vanguard surges by. They are the Judas-hearted,— They are the souls of them That spurned God’s own anointed, The Man of Bethlehem. For them nor peace nor joyance At this high tide of Yule, Since they are doomed to follow The Hunter’s iron rule. Rage fills his veins with riot When peals the Christmas mirth, For memory bears him backward When he had power on earth. So mad he whirls his minions Behind him fast and far, Without or pause or pity, From star to utmost star. The once almighty Odin Whom Christ hurled from his height, He is the Christmas Hunter Who roams the voids of night.